Extra Curricular Activities
by Rivien
Summary: All Hermione wants is for Snape to recognise her abilities as his potions student - unknown to her, he's quite aware of that and of a few other things as well... and what happens in the extra curricular activities, anyway? HG/SS.
1. The First Lesson

Hey guys :) this is not my first story but it's the first one I've been brave enough to upload here. Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing it (insert inappropriate winky face here) and feel free to leave a review and let me know how it is.

Thanks for reading.

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They were packing up their things, ready to leave when Professor Snape walked up to the desk that Hermione, Harry and Ron were standing at, and he said, "Miss Granger, see me after class. I want to discuss your grades."

Hermione watched him glide away across the classroom, snapping at a few students who had not cleaned up properly. Ron watched him walk away before he snorted, and said, "Git. What could possibly be wrong with your grades? You're top of the class."

"I'm not, Ron," Hermione replied, putting her books into her bag. "Theodore and Draco are top of the class."

"I don't understand," said Harry, sceptical as always of the Slytherin potions master. "Does he want to cut you from potions or something?"

"I hope not. Maybe he's got something for me to study to help me get my grades up," Hermione said, thinking aloud as she so often did. "I need an outstanding to become a Healer, after all."

"Are you suggesting that that old slime bag might actually try being nice?" Ron asked, voice dripping with hate for the Professor. "I'd like to see that happen."

"We both know he's not pure evil, Ronald," Hermione said, switching to the tone of voice she used when she was disapproving of something. Funny how she seemed to use it on Ron more than anybody else. And besides, she knew Ron was being unreasonable – Snape was a part of the order, and they knew he was doing undercover work for Dumbledore. He was nothing short of a decent man, even if he wasn't the most friendly.

Ron mumbled something under his breath but he didn't continue the conversation. Harry said that they were going to wait outside for her, but Hermione saw the look of panic on Ron's face as he realised he might miss out on a snack between now and dinner. It was the last class of the day, after all – Ron could hardly ever wait another two hours to eat.

"That's okay," said Hermione, "I'll catch up with you guys in the common room. I won't be too long."

As they left, Hermione put her bag and cauldron at the edge of the desk and walked towards the front of the classroom, where Snape was sitting at his desk. He glanced up at her and for a very long moment, he simply stared at her. It was unnerving.

"Miss Granger," Snape said, finally addressing her with his low voice. "I received your owl yesterday and found it rather perplexing."

Hermione looked up at the Potions Master, but as always she couldn't hold contact with his deep black eyes. "Per-perplexing, sir?"

"Yes, perplexing," Snape repeated. "You are not the sort of person to ask for assistance – don't interrupt, you know it is true. You don't like admitting you are wrong. I assume this is why you sent an owl and you did not confront me personally?"

Hermione hesitated before giving a short nod. "Yes sir," she said quietly. She'd borrowed Pigwidgeon from Ginny to send the note to Snape, too afraid to actually arrange a meeting with him and too embarrassed to admit that she was upset about not getting an outstanding in potions to any of her friends. Only Ginny knew, and she was brilliant at secret keeping.

"You are worried about your grades, Miss Granger?" Snape asked, staring at her with a raised eyebrow. His onyx eyes burned into her and she felt incredibly self-conscious. His smooth, pale skin flickered with light from the candles in the dungeon.

Nodding again, Hermione replied, "Yes, Professor. I – I need an outstanding in potions to qualify for an apprenticeship at St. Mungo's."

"I see," Snape said in his slow, careful tone, as though he were thinking, scrutinising every word she said. "Therein lies your problem, does it not? You are only exceeding expectations."

Hermione felt no need to reply. The only two who had higher scores than her, Draco Malfoy and Theodore Nott, were both in Slytherin, and that felt a little like house favouring to her. But she daren't say that to Snape's face.

"How do you suppose asking me for help will assist in lifting your grades?"

Hermione felt cold as he said that. It's what she didn't want to hear. "No, please sir, if I could –"

"I didn't ask you to beg, Miss Granger," Snape said, pronouncing every syllable perfectly. "I asked for your opinion. I would take the opportunity as I do believe it's somewhat of a rare occurrence."

Hermione swallowed the dry lump in her throat and tried to keep a reign on the worry in her chest. "I – I thought maybe I could – that there might be some extra-curricular study I could look at."

Snape stood up and Hermione had to force herself to not skitter backwards away from him. His dominating presence scared her, and she couldn't look at him. Hermione Granger, afraid of Snape – she always had been, yet she'd tried so hard to win his approval for so many years. Nothing she did could make him happy, though.

Snape walked around the desk, his elegant stride slow and deliberate. "Extra-curricular study, Miss Granger?" he repeated. "Did I hear you correctly?"

"Y-yes, sir," Hermione managed in little more than a whisper.

"That would almost seem like favouring to other students, would it not?"

"Yes, sir."

"Perhaps," Snape said, standing in front of her, "You should conjure up a new plan to secure your outstanding mark in my Potions class."

Hermione glanced up at him with a worried frown, racking her brains for a solution. What could she possibly do? She was already out of options. For all the books in the library that could possibly help her become a better student, there was not one book that taught her how to please Professor Snape.

Hermione took a breath and said, "I'm sorry for wasting your time, Professor."

She turned to leave, but a hand caught onto her wrist. Startled, she jumped, and stared at Snape's hand holding her arm. She glanced up at him. His stare was intense.

"S-sir?"

"Miss Granger, I was not suggesting that you should leave," Snape said slowly, talking softly, and Hermione realised that he had pulled her slightly closer. "I was merely insinuating that there is more than one way you could convince me to give you higher grades."

It took Hermione a moment, but her eyes widened as she realised what he was talking about – the way he stared at her like that gave a clear hint. The initial draining of blood from her cheeks was replaced by a very steady blush which burned along her skin, and she stammered, "S-sir, I couldn't –"

"Miss Granger, you have always been a fascinating, talented young witch," Snape said, in more of a statement than a compliment. "It is only a shame I have never been able to see past your defensive outer shell until recently, and realise that you are only trying to fulfil a personal legacy that is far beyond what is expected of you by others."

"I – I have no p-personal legacy," Hermione stumbled over her words.

Snape's eyebrow twitched slightly. "Then what is it? Are you desperate for the approval of those around you?"

Hermione stared at him, confused. Nobody had ever talked to her like that before. Nobody had bothered to see that she was always trying so hard and she never got any credit for it. Others might have given up, but she was Hermione. She didn't give up.

"I see," Snape said, after a heavy pause as Hermione did not reply. "In that case, Miss Granger, I might profess that you have never disappointed me."

Hermione was only more confused, with every word he said. She jumped in surprise when she felt his other hand touch her hip gently, and she felt herself trembling. "But – sir, why –"

Snape leaned towards her and whispered in her ear, "Because I wanted to be the one to tell you myself. I want to show you that you don't have to slave over your studies to impress me, or anyone."

Hermione shook as she felt herself pressed up against her potions master, and his arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer to him, her hands pressed against his chest. He looked down at her with his deep black eyes and he said, "If you would prefer to not indulge in any extra-curricular activities…" his eyes danced from her face across the rest of her body, "Then perhaps you should say so now."

Hermione swallowed another lump of fear that threatened to make itself known. She shook as though she were cold, but she knew it was not the cold because Snape's body against hers produced a marvellous heat, and she felt herself blushing as she revelled at the contact.

Snape noticed, and he brushed his lips against her messy hair, tied back in a rough ponytail. "I will take your silence to mean that perhaps – perhaps you might like to see what I can do about your grades."

There was a small pause on Hermione's part, followed by a nod.

She felt Snape's hand gently take a hold of her chin, and he tilted her head towards his as he pressed his lips against hers, moving so slowly and gracefully that Hermione felt her knees go weak. She was kissing Severus Snape… oh, how could she ever tell Harry and Ron?

Her worries were washed away as Snape slipped his tongue between her lips and his hand took a hold of her hair, gently tugging and pulling to where he wanted her to be. She was happy to oblige – it was most definitely the best kiss she had ever experienced. His lips were so soft, and his tongue was smooth and she gasped as it touched hers, toying with her, teasing her. She responded in turn and she felt his movement become, not necessarily rougher, but more needy, more wanting.

Snape began to pull at the sleeves of her robe, before pushing the material from her shoulders so that it fell to the floor. Hermione felt a shiver of cold, but it was replaced by one of anticipation as his talented fingers began to take off her tie and unbutton her blouse as Hermione let her hands creep up to wrap around his neck.

Hermione wasn't sure what to do. She had only ever kissed somebody before. Oh god, she was going further with her Potions teacher than she had with anybody… the thought made her turn bright red again.

With shaking hands, Hermione tried to untie his robes, but without being able to see what she was doing, she achieved next to nothing. Snape took his hands away from her for a moment, and pulled his lips away to stare at her as he removed his cloak. Hermione felt herself blush again simply from his eyes on her.

As his cloak fell to the floor, Snape's elegant hands manoeuvred Hermione so that she was pressed against his desk, and Hermione felt a small noise escape from the back of her throat as Snape pressed himself up against her again, trapping her there. Snape chuckled slightly, and he brushed a stray strand of hair back from her face as he said, "Regretting your agreement to work with me, Miss Granger?"

The way his words struck a chord within her body made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end, and she shook her head. "N-no, Professor."

"Good girl," the Potions Master whispered in her ear, before he began to kiss her neck, sucking and biting at her skin, grasping onto her hip as she made the most delicious mewls and whimpers as he kissed her skin. Snape had been waiting for so long for this opportunity, and now that it was finally here it was all he could do to not tear her clothes off and thrust eagerly into her quivering body – he knew however, that this would take perhaps a bit more time than he hoped.

He would enjoy every moment of it nonetheless.

As he finished unbuttoning her blouse, and began to brush the material from her chest, he could feel just how smooth, beautiful and hot her skin was beneath his fingertips. She jumped as he touched her stomach, his fingers trailing across her hip, and he heard her gasp as he traced a fingertip beneath the material of her skirt.

She struggled with the buttons of his shirt, but managed better this time as Snape watched her carefully. A most wonderful blush crept along her skin every time she caught his eye, and saw just how much he wanted her. She would look away again quickly, turning red, returning to the task before her.

When she finished, she could see the pale skin of Snape's torso, his ridged muscles perfectly shaped to his wiry figure. A slight dusting of hair was evident on his chest, and Snape watched as she examined him. He was surprised when she reached out and trailed her hand down his torso, tracing the trail of hair that led from his navel to beneath the material of his trousers with a fingertip. She had a curious look on her face as she touched him, and only when he took a small breath did she remember that he was there. She looked back up at him and blushed furiously, and snatched her hand back, cradling it to her chest.

Snape shrugged off his shirt and he reached for her hand, bringing it back to his chest. "It's alright, Hermione," he said, and noted how she trembled when he said her name. She touched his skin carefully as Snape tilted her head back up again to kiss her, the kiss demanding and purposeful, the small nips of his teeth on her bottom lip and sweep of his tongue made Hermione whimper into his mouth, and she pulled him closer to her. It felt so nice.

Snape's hands wrapped back around her waist, touching the skin beneath her shirt. She twitched as he scraped his fingernails across the sensitive spot on her lower back – she didn't even know that was there – and trailed along her spine. He was pressed up so close to her, and his skin was so hot against hers, Hermione thought they would melt together. The sensations were amazing.

Snape pulled the shirt from her arms, exposing her bare shoulders and neck, and he kissed the juncture between her neck and shoulder, and Hermione surprised herself when she let out a moan. She blushed again, and she covered her mouth with her hand, and Snape whispered against her skin, "Those sounds you make are exquisite, Hermione."

Kissing her collarbone and neck, Snape's experienced hands unhooked her bra strap, and Hermione jumped in surprise, gripping his arms as he did so. Snape paused, and he lifted his eyes to look at her. She was flushed and her chest was heaving as she tried to catch her breath.

"You're nervous, Miss Granger," Snape said, not asking a question.

She nodded, and looked away as she began to speak, her voice little more than a whisper. "I-I've never done anything like this before."

Snape's fingertips traced circles on the skin of her lower back, and he watched as her eyelids fluttered and her breathing quickened as he did so. He knew this was all new to her – the way she reacted to his touch was nothing short of innocent. He felt his heart race as he realised he wanted all of her, and he wanted her to think of him whenever she thought about her first time. He wanted Hermione to always be his.

"Hopefully I will be able to make this a pleasant experience for you," he said, voice sending tremors through Hermione's body. He dragged his fingernails across her sensitive skin as he pulled the straps of her bra from her shoulders. "Consider it a learning exercise. If you should allow it, I would… like to teach you," he said, whispering into her ear.

Hermione couldn't believe the effect his voice alone had upon her body. His lips brushed across her skin as he said, "If you are willing to learn." She gasped as he nipped at her neck, and she felt her bra drop to the floor.

"Are you willing to learn, Miss Granger?"

"Yes, Professor," she replied, voice shaking as she felt his hands running along the smooth skin of her back. She reached up and touched his bare shoulders, running her hands down his torso and feeling the texture of his skin, running her fingertips over the scars that ran across his body and feeling the smoothness were the skin was unscathed.

She felt Snape's hands take a hold of her waist, and she gave a small squeak of surprise when he lifted her and sat her on the edge of his desk. She was now almost at eye level with him, and she blushed as he stared at her naked chest. She tried to cover herself but Snape's hands latched onto her wrists, and pulled her arms away.

"Lesson number one," Snape said, "You do not deny your professor what he wants most."

He raised an eyebrow at her and Hermione realised he was waiting for a response. Swallowing her nervousness, she replied, "Y-yes, sir."

Snape let go of her hands, trusting she would do as he said. His eyes raked over her perfectly shaped breasts, the cold making her small rosy nipples grow hard. He looked back up at Hermione, and he placed his hand on her neck and pulled her in for another kiss, lips burning against each other as the need for contact grew.

"Lesson two," Snape whispered between kisses, his hand trailing down her neck and chest, "When I pleasure your body…" his fingertips danced across her breasts with a feather light touch, "…you do not mute any reactions." As he finished speaking, a calloused thumb and finger pinched one of the hardened nipples and Hermione let out a small cry as her nerves caught fire.

"Yes, sir," she moaned against his lips, her hands tugging at his silky black hair.

Snape's hand crept along her thigh, reaching around to scrape his fingernails across her ass. She jumped and trembled, her hands keeping a tight hold on his hair and shoulder, as she felt her underwear being pulled down. He pushed her chest backwards and he lifted her hips, removing her panties with a quick movement of his hand. Hermione sat back up again and kissed him, as Snape squeezed her breasts and pinched her nipples, swallowing every moan and whimper that came from her lips.

His hand trailed down her stomach and to her skirt, down to her leg, where his hand made its way back up the inside of her thigh. Trembling as their tongues battled to gain dominance, even though she knew she would lose, she tried to concentrate on what was happening but it was too much to take when he was touching her breasts, kissing her and tracing circles on the inside of her thigh.

She gasped and pulled her lips away from his when his fingertip traced the edges of her outer lips, and a strange tingling feeling followed. His mouth was still touching hers but only gently, and a long moan escaped from Hermione's lips as an elegant finger stroked her slowly.

Whispering against her lips, Snape said huskily, "You appear to be very wet, Miss Granger."

"S-sorry, sir," Hermione managed, whimpering again as he continued to stroke her.

"No need to apologise," Snape murmured, pushing her backwards to lie on his desk. "I was simply making an observation."

Leaning over her, Snape kissed and sucked viciously at her neck while his hand worked wonders on her pussy. He stroked her, and gently slid a long finger inside of her, listening to the mewling sound she made when he brushed a fingertip across her clit.

Lowering his head, his tongue darted out to lick her rosy nipple, and he inserted his finger inside of her again, and Hermione gasped and moaned, "Professor…"

Sucking on her nipple, flicking it with his tongue and letting his hand pleasure her, Snape watched her body twitching and squirming as he touched her, watched the look of ecstasy on her beautiful face, her lips trembling as she gasped for breath.

Slowly slipping another finger inside of her, Snape felt her muscles tense and heard her take a hissing breath, her body shifting away from him. He glanced up at her, and saw her face contorted.

Removing his fingers, he leaned over her and he said, "Did I hurt you?"

She managed a small smile between her laboured breaths and she whispered, "Only a little."

Leaning closer to whisper in her ear, Snape said, "Just you wait, little Gryffindor – I'll teach you pain and pleasure and you'll want both when I'm done with you."

He watched her shiver at his words and he kissed her neck, her chest, kissing his way down her stomach, and he spoke against her skin. "Because this is your first lesson, I'll concentrate more on pleasure."

"Thank you, sir," Hermione whispered.

_No need to thank me,_ Snape thought, as he lifted her skirt, pushing it up her body as he moved between her legs. Hermione sat up, pushing the skirt back down again, but Snape was expecting this. He stood over her, overshadowing her, and he pushed her back down to the desk.

"I hope you remember lesson number one, Miss Granger," he hissed.

Moving back down to her hips, he pulled her skirt clean off and heard her whimper slightly. Placing his hands on her legs, he pulled her thighs apart and his eyes beheld the sight he saw there. A thin tuft of hair between her legs, and soft skin covering the deep red, glistening opening he saw beneath. He reached out with his fingers and he pulled apart the lips, and he heard her whimper again.

Breathing out against her skin, he felt her tremble beneath him.

Hermione shook as she knew what was about to happen, but nothing could have prepared her for Snape's velvet tongue giving her a long, languid lick, and the high-pitched moan that escaped from her lips only made him do it again.

Holding her hips down to keep her still, Snape licked and stroked her with his tongue, hearing her cries when he flicked her clit, and the moans she made when he pushed his tongue inside of her, caressing the walls of her pussy, tasting the sweetness of her core.

As he thrust his tongue inside her, Hermione cried out and gripped the edge of the desk, knuckles turning white as she tried to keep still but with every movement of his tongue she would jerk and squirm, the moans and mewls that left her lips completely out of her control. She could feel a pressure building, warmth gathering inside her, and she felt as though she were about to implode.

"Sir, please," she moaned, before she could stop herself.

Snape paused only for one second to reply, "Yes, Miss Granger?"

"I need – I need – ah –"

Snape knew what it was she was asking for, even if she didn't. He teased her for only a little longer, flicking her clit tauntingly, before he attacked it with fervour, sucking and nipping and flicking at it until he heard a most delicious cry, felt her body shake and then she fell back to the desk, shuddering at the feeling.

Snape watched her shaking hands lying on the desk, and he stared at her face, her lips parted and her eyes shut as she took shuddering, uneven breaths. He kissed her neck and face and he whispered, "Breathe slowly, Miss Granger. Deep breaths."

She struggled to control her breathing but she did as he said, and she began to breathe slower, take deeper gulps of air as she rested. An almost unnoticeable smirk danced across the Potion Master's face as he looked at Hermione. He put his hands beneath her and lifted her up so she was sitting, and she stared up at him with bruised lips and shimmering golden eyes.

"Now, Miss Granger," Snape said as he brushed the messy hair back from her face. "You're going to get dressed, and go back to your common room."

Hermione's eyes widened slightly. "Wh-what? You don't – you're not –"

Snape pressed a finger to her lips, silencing her. "Don't you worry, Miss Granger," he said, "In order to keep your grades up, I'm going to keep teaching you everything I know."

Hermione stared up at him from beneath tangled eyelashes and she swallowed nervously before she repeated, "Everything?"

"Everything," Snape hissed.

Hermione licked her dry lips, and Snape swept in to kiss her again, but only blissfully briefly as he pulled back and he picked up her clothes from the floor, and handed them to her. She smiled shyly in thanks and turned before he could see her blushing again, and began to put her uniform back on.

As she finished dressing, she felt Snape's hands on her waist and she felt his lips on her neck, and she moaned quietly and pressed back against him.

His lips moved to whisper in her ear, and he said, "Detention. Five weeks, Friday, my office, eight o'clock."

"Detention?" Hermione asked, frowning. "_Five weeks_? What for?"

His right hand held tightly against her hip as his other travelled along her backside, as he said, "For your insolent and inappropriate manners towards your superiors, Miss Granger," and as he spoke his fingers dug into her hip and he squeezed her bottom, causing Hermione to let out a squeak.

"But – but I haven't –"

"Not yet you haven't," Snape said, before he removed his hands from her body and said, "I shall see you in class on Monday, Miss Granger."

Hermione let a small smile creep on her lips, and she picked up her bags and left.

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now go review! :D


	2. The Second Lesson

Here is chapter two for your indulgent eyes :) behave yourselves, and have fun reading.

Please review, I'd like to know how I'm doing with all this. Thanks for reading!

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"I can't believe he gave you detention."

Hermione snapped out of her daydreaming and turned to look at Ginny, who had a formidable frown on her face. Hermione was often thankful that she and Ginny were good friends, because being on the youngest Weasley's bad side was not a safe place to be. Ginny had not hesitated to throw the odd hex at anybody who pissed her off, and was also known for her physical violence when hexing was not an option.

They were on the way back to the common room after dinner, and Hermione had told Ginny she couldn't stay up with her that night because she was going to a detention. They usually stayed up later on Fridays and talked or played cards – Harry and Ron liked to sleep earlier because now that Ron was on the team they liked getting a good night's sleep before Quidditch practice or the match, depending on what was happening that weekend. Ron had never had a problem keeping Harry awake when he hadn't been keeper, but Harry never really cared anyway. But now that Hermione had detention with Snape for five weeks, she knew they'd probably have to move their late night conversations to Saturday night.

Shrugging in response to Ginny's question, Hermione said, "I guess he's just trying to set an example." She'd told her friends that Snape had given her detention for the next five weeks because she'd sworn at him when he asked her why he should help her with her studies, and perhaps it was not reflective of his teaching but of her brains. A pretty good story, if she said so herself. The end of term was in five week's time, and Hermione knew Snape had planned it very well. For all of his flaws, Professor Snape was not an idiot.

Ginny was still fuming. "But you're _Hermione…_"

"I was aware of that, yes."

"…there's no way you couldn't be getting an outstanding in Potions. I mean, you're smarter than the whole class put together."

"That's not a very accurate measurement –"

"That's so _typical_ of you to say that."

Hermione sighed and gave her a small smile. "Don't worry, Ginny. He won't make me do anything dreadful – I'll probably just be counting newt tails or cleaning desks or something."

"But it's muggle cleaning..."

"I was a muggle for most of my human life," Hermione said with a laugh. "I know how to use a cloth and spray bottle, unlike you."

Ginny grinned. "Shut up."

* * *

Leaving her friend in the common room, Hermione wandered back down to the dungeons. She could feel her heart beating at a million miles an hour. She had not been able to stop thinking about last week – Snape had made her feel amazing, she'd daydreamed about him, found herself blushing whenever anybody even _mentioned _potions or Snape, and had resisted the urge to release the sexual tension that built more every time she saw him in class. She wanted to throw herself at him, but at the same time she wanted to run back to her dorm and touch herself, thinking of Snape.

The thought had crossed her mind more times than she'd care to admit, and she'd struggled to keep her hands away from herself and from Snape. Even if she was aching for it, she had far too much dignity to interfere with herself like that. She always felt deep shame whenever she did, and she managed to avoid any such situations for a very long time – and no suave, smooth, sexy Potions teacher would change that, she thought determinedly.

Now that she was walking towards the dungeons, though, Hermione could feel her skin tingle and her stomach hollow in anticipation. All of her determination to be dignified and retain her self control was wasting away with every step she took towards Snape's office.

And it was still bitterly cold in the dungeons. Hermione wondered if the stone steps emitted coldness, she felt like she was trapped in a huge refrigerator. Not that half of her friends would know what a refrigerator was, anyway…

Suppressing a shiver, Hermione came to a stop outside the heavy wooden door of Snape's office. She raised her slight hand and gently knocked, waiting a moment before Snape's voice called out, "Enter," and the door opened for her.

Hermione walked into the office and her eyes scanned the room for a moment. It wasn't the first time she'd been in his office – she'd had to nick back her potions assignment in third year when she'd forgotten to write half of it (that whole time-turner business just about killed her), though she'd never been there for a detention.

Or a rendezvous, for that matter…

It was a large, mostly round room with gray stone walls, and the shelves on the wall were lined with intricate objects and vials, a number of shelves were full of ingredients that Hermione could only guess at what they were – but she knew they were rare. A Pensieve shimmered in the far corner of the room, tucked neatly between two shelves, and the one flat wall at the back of the room had another door, which Hermione guessed lead to Snape's quarters.

Snape was putting a number of vials on a shelf, having cleared space for them there. It was slightly dusty, but Hermione couldn't blame him. She found it hard enough to keep her own small shelf tidy and she was only a student. He turned to face her, his face impassive, and he said, "Good evening, Miss Granger."

"Good evening, Professor," Hermione said, managing not to stammer, but she daren't say anything else.

"You are incredibly punctual," Snape said, checking his pocket watch. "In fact, you are thirty seconds early."

"Oh, I'm –" Hermione began, but she didn't know whether she was meant to say she was sorry, or whether to simply start small talk. More accurately, she didn't have a clue what to do or say.

"That's quite alright, Miss Granger," Snape said curtly. "You can begin labelling the vials on the bottom left shelf – I have a list here with the names of the potions and the number of the vials. I need you to label each one because they are being sent to the infirmary."

Hermione swallowed, and nodded. "Alright, sir."

She took out her ink and quill from her bag, and Snape waved his wand and a box of labels on string floated over to place itself by the shelf, and Hermione resisted raising her eyebrows at the mundane task. She'd been under the impression that she and Snape would be… well, she didn't think she'd _actually _be serving a detention. The way he'd looked at her in class yesterday – that had been enough to make her wet just thinking about it. He'd looked at her like that when he'd seen her naked, that burning, possessive desire in his dark eyes. It was overwhelming, and yet here she was, labelling vials.

How annoying, she thought. It's simply annoying. Trust a man to lead you on with all his charms and sex appeal and then just forget that you even existed. What was the point?

There were a number of different potions on the shelf – pretty basic healing potions, as far as she could tell. There were deflating draughts, burn healing potions, sleeping draughts, blood replenishing draughts, and lastly the good old Pepperup Potion, which tasted just as bad as the Muggle cough medicines (but worked quite a bit better, to no real surprise). Hermione let out a small sigh as she began to write out the labels, beginning to sort out the vials into their groups.

It was tedious work, and as she worked, she chided herself for being so stupid. This was just a part of Snape's little ploy to use her. He had made her feel over the moon last week, got her all excited and now he was just going to use her to do all the stupid little chores he didn't want to do. She couldn't complain, he'd given her detention, and if she did tell anybody he was being a wanker, he could always tell them about how Hermione had seduced him…

_Fuck_, she thought angrily. _Fell for the most obvious trap. You're a dolt, Hermione, and you deserve abstinence. Stupid, stupid girl…_

As soon as she thought it, she felt breath on her neck and nearly hit the roof, were it not for two steady hands grasping her waist. Hermione felt her heart hammering in her chest and the warm breath that ran over her skin send shivers down her spine.

"Come now, Miss Granger, did you really think I'd leave you to such wearisome tasks?" he spoke, voice low and lips moving across her skin, "You know I have second years to do such things for me."

Hermione's voice almost didn't work at all. "I-I d-didn't think – think that you were –"

"Of course you did, Miss Granger," Snape said, lips now at her ear. "Do you suppose I didn't notice that look of disappointment on your face when I told you to sort out labels? It was quite amusing."

Hermione spun around, still holding the parchment and quill in hand, and as her hair whipped around her face she turned to stare at Snape with a look of disbelief. "Wait, were you – were you messing with me? Professor Snape, dreaded potions master, actually having a joke?"

"You sound so surprised, Miss Granger," Snape said calmly, lifting his hand to brush back the hair from her face, making her lips part slightly. "I'm not completely inhuman."

"That's – that's not what I meant," she said slowly, before a smile split her face. "It's just so strange so joke around, with you."

Snape gave a small smile before Hermione gave him a quick shove, and he stumbled backwards slightly, before frowning questioningly.

Hermione pulled a face at him. "That's for pranking me!"

Before she knew what was happening, Hermione was pressed up against the wall next to the shelf, and all the air was gone from her lungs as Snape crushed himself against her, growling quietly, "Then this is for shoving me."

His lips crushed to hers in a fiery kiss, giving her no opportunities to gasp for air as his tongue delved between her pink lips, dancing with her own intimately. Hermione held his face in her hands, though she could not control what he was doing, and he pulled on her lower back, their hips clashing and Hermione felt a hardness jab into her soft thigh, and she gasped.

Snape pulled away from her lips and took a deep breath, and Hermione found herself gasping for air. His dark eyes bore into her as he rested his forehead against her own, and he said in a strained voice, "Can you feel what you're doing to me, Hermione?"

Hermione felt his words rush through her blood, and she felt as though she was burning on the inside. She could feel his hardness against her, and he slid his hand along her right thigh, touching the soft, smooth skin there.

"Answer me, Miss Granger," Snape said, voice hissing.

"Yes, Sir," Hermione breathed, "I can – I can feel it."

Snape's hand on her leg dragged back down to her knee, where he lifted and hooked her leg around his waist. Hermione took a sharp breath as she felt his pelvis press against her more intimately, and he repeated the action with her other leg and lifting her so that she not standing, only pressed between the wall and Snape, her legs locked around his waist, that incredibly hot hardness pressing into her most intimate region, her eyes at level with his now.

Hermione's chest heaved as she dared to unbutton Snape's cloak, watching it drop to the floor. She could have sworn she almost heard Snape groan as she carefully unbuttoned his shirt, her fingertips scraping against his textured skin. She felt him breathe heavily and he lowered his lips to kiss at her neck, the same frenzied kisses they had shared moments before. Hermione moaned as he sucked at the juncture of her neck and shoulder, as he bit and licked her collarbone, and when Hermione was beginning to wonder where her shirt had gone, she realised that he'd ripped open the buttons as he'd pushed her to the wall, and his hands were already roaming across her exposed skin.

As his own shirt fell open, Hermione felt a certain rush at the feel of her smooth, young skin against his own scarred, textured skin, her soft breasts and stomach pressing into the hard lines of his torso. As Snape took a sharp breath through his teeth, she was sure he felt the same.

As Snape stared at Hermione, he wondered how he'd managed to keep this much self control for so long. It had taken so much effort and an awful lot of self-pleasuring to restrain from going anywhere near her in class, though he longed to touch her thighs when she reached for something high on a shelf, or when he saw the sweat on her brow from a hot cauldron and his mind would wonder what it would be like to see that shine on her skin as she lay beneath him, moaning and crying his name as he pounded into her, her hands clawing at his skin as she held him tight, tight around him…

Yeah. Snape had a pretty rough week.

"I've been waiting all week for this, Miss Granger," Snape said.

Hermione gulped. "M-me too, Sir," she replied, voice quavering.

"Really?" Snape asked, lips brushing against hers as he teased her. He ran his hand along her thigh again, and he watched her eyelids flutter. "Did you think of me in class, think of that desk which you were lying on last week as I made you scream?"

He watched her blushing, watched the reaction of his words. It was too adorable. He wanted to devour her, but he kept talking.

"Were you thinking of my lips on your skin, my hands all over you, my body on yours, Miss Granger?" he whispered. "Or – perhaps another part of my anatomy crossed your mind?"

Her golden brown eyes caught his for a moment, before she looked away, embarrassed. Snape let out a small breath, and he ground his pelvis into the juncture of her legs, and he listened to the small cry she made, biting her lip as she held onto him, her arms around his neck as he pressed himself against her.

"Did you think of what you want me to do to you, Miss Granger?" Snape hissed, the friction of their clothes infuriating him. "Did you dream of all the things I could teach you?"

Hermione did not respond, but only let out a breathy moan. Snape thrust hard against her, and he said, "Answer me, Granger!"

"Ohh!" Hermione cried out, "Oh, yes, P-professor, I couldn't – I couldn't stop thinking of you..."

Her last words came out as desperate words, words she choked on, and Snape kissed her throat again as she writhed against him, and he ground himself against her.

"I think it's time for our second lesson to officially begin, don't you think, Miss Granger?" Snape said, as his lips moved over her heated skin.

"Yes," she managed, "Yes please, Professor…"

Snape let her down from the wall, and held her hand in his own as he walked them to the back of his office, towards the second door. Hermione could hardly make her legs work properly, she was shaking so much. It's much easier to be touched and kissed when you don't have to stand up, she concluded.

Snape opened the door, and let Hermione into his private chambers. The walls were the same gray stone, but there was a rich green carpet on the floor and a huge mirror that lined one side of the room. Snape had a number of cupboards and drawers in this room, but there wasn't much else on display. He had a large couch on the opposite side of the room from the mirror, and in the middle of the room was a large queen sized four-poster bed with a deep green blanket and silver sheets.

Hermione loved the feel of the room. The furniture all felt antique and special, and she eyed the books that sat on a shelf above his drawers. Snape had seen her look at the books and he chuckled as he traced lines on her hip. "Not now, Hermione. We've got more important things to worry about."

As though to prove his point, he nudged his hips forward and Hermione felt his erection press against her lower back, and she took a sharp breath.

"Now Miss Granger," Snape said in his quiet voice, "You're going to learn all about me tonight. I'm going to teach you how to be a good girl, and how to do please me… If you are willing, of course," he finished, moving her hair out of the way so he could kiss the back of her neck.

Hermione shivered, and she nodded. "Yes, sir." She found herself extremely excited and thrilled by what was happening, even if she was so nervous she could hardly speak. No other boy could make her feel this way – but Snape was no ordinary school boy. Snape was not ordinary at all.

Snape moved Hermione towards the couch, where they sat down beside each other. Snape wrapped a hand around Hermione's waist, and he pulled her closer to him.

"Hermione," he said lowly, "I want you to do as I tell you, and I want you to trust me. Okay?"

Hermione paused but she nodded, and gently took her hand in his, and placed it on his thigh. "I want you to do what feels right, Hermione," he said, and Hermione swallowed her nervousness, and after a moment of hesitation, she let her fingertips scrape across the material of his trousers, touching his inner thigh. She watched his eyes close slowly as she moved her hand across his skin, tracing up to where she had felt the bulge before. She shifted closer to Snape, his arm drawing her close, her legs entangled with one of his as she buried her face into his shoulder.

"P-professor," she stammered, as she felt herself shaking, her hand trembling as it hovered above the bulge in his trousers, "I – I don't know – if I can do this."

There was a heavy pause before Snape replied. "Are you scared, Hermione?" His voice was slightly strained, but it was still as smooth as ever.

Hermione tried to find the words. "N-not particularly, Sir," she said, "I'm just – I just don't – I –"

"You don't know how?" Snape asked.

"I'm not sure," she whispered.

As Hermione waited for an answer, she was shocked by Snape's small chuckle as he said, "Come now, Miss Granger, this is not a particularly difficult activity. If you like, I will show you how."

Hermione sighed, relaxing against him. "Thankyou," she whispered.

"After all," Snape replied, as the sound of his trousers unzipping tore through the quiet room, "Isn't this why you're here – for me to teach you?"

Hermione smiled, and she felt Snape take her hand in his gently as he quickly shifted his trousers down his legs a bit, moving on the couch. "Now, Hermione," he said, his face buried in her hair as he spoke, "Let me show you how to make me feel exquisite, the same way I make you feel."

He took her small hand and gently placed it on his erection. Hermione was still hiding in the crook of his neck and she let out a small breath when she felt the warm, smooth and rock hard flesh in her hand. It was so hot, and it felt – it felt large. Daring to sneak a peek, Hermione adjusted slightly and stared out of the corner of her eye at her Potions teacher's large manhood.

Hermione didn't know much about male anatomy, and she knew enough – and she wasn't quite sure how that was supposed to fit in her lady parts. She felt her cheeks heating up at the thought, and pressed herself against Snape even more.

"Explore me, Hermione," Snape said, voice not as even as it had been moments ago. "See what it feels like. See if you can get a reaction," he breathed, his words encouraging and helpful, yet outrageously sexual to Hermione's innocent ears.

Hermione did as he said, and she traced her fingertips along his entire length, watching his hips shift as she touched the tip, and she trailed her fingertip along the head, under the ridge of the head and over the top, and she heard Snape groan audibly.

"Your hands are so soft, Hermione…"

Hermione took this as encouragement and she began to grow bolder, and she wrapped her lithe fingers around his length, slowly moving and twisting her hand around him, listening to the sounds of his breathing.

"You have no idea how wonderful that feels," Snape said breathlessly, "But what I need from you is this…"

Hermione felt Snape's other hand wrap around hers, and he tightened his grip, tightening hers as well, and he moved her hand quickly up and down his cock, pumping his length and letting her do it on her own when he trusted she caught onto the idea.

Snape's chest heaved as he tried to gain his breath, Hermione's small, soft hand touching him so intimately, and he felt himself groan as he tried to stop from thrusting into her hand, but it was near impossible. He felt himself leaking, the pre-cum beginning to spread itself along his manhood as she continued to stroke him, and he tightened his arm around her, clenching onto her blouse with a fist as he hissed, "Don't slow down, Hermione…"

Taking the hint, she sped up, and she felt the small grunts that escaped from his lips with every exhaled breath, and then before she knew it he thrust up hard into her hand once, twice, three times, and then she felt a warm wetness on her hand as he came, slowly thrusting into her willing hand, and she milked him as he finished, a loud groan sounding from the back of his throat as he pulled her so close the breath was squeezed from her lungs.

"Oh, Hermione," Snape exhaled, leaning against her as he finally finished, his voice trembling as he kissed her neck, her cheek, her lips. "You are a fast learner."

"I do my best," Hermione whispered. "Um, Professor –"

"Yes?"

"Do you have a tissue?"

Snape drew back long enough to frown at her condescendingly before he drew out his wand, said, "_scourgify_," and all the mess disappeared.

"Oh," said Hermione, glancing at her now clean hand. "Well – thanks."

"Oh no," Snape said, "Thank you, Hermione. Thank you for being so eager to learn."

Hermione blushed slightly as Snape left a surprisingly tender kiss on her lips. Looking up at him, she asked timidly, "You're not just using me, are you?"

She didn't ask as though she were attacking him – she asked almost in surprise. She was genuinely impressed that he was being so kind to her, so tender. They both knew he could overbear her and take whatever he wanted, that he could treat her harshly and force himself onto her, but he never pressured her into anything. Hermione knew if she had wanted to leave he would have let her.

"No, Hermione," Snape said, brushing the hair from her eyes. "I am not using you. I want to show you affection in the best way I know how, I want to – appreciate you."

"You could always have put up my grades," Hermione said with a small snort. "That'd be a good way of showing that – eep!"

She squealed as Snape tackled her onto the couch, and he growled, "You are going to get yourself in trouble, Miss Granger," as he leaned over her, face a picture of anger but for his eyes which were dancing with a strange delight she'd never seen there.

"Oh, Professor," Hermione sighed, "I was only joking. I – I'm glad you want to show me – teach me these things."

"Are you really?" Snape whispered. "I have wanted to show you how perfect you are since the day I saw you at Grimmauld Place, your perfect body waltzing around the kitchen, your hair such a beautiful mess, I even wanted to follow around that damn cat of yours, I was so obsessed…"

Hermione looked up at him, pleasantly surprised by his confession. "You were obsessed with me?" she asked, a hesitant smile creeping on her glowing face.

Snape simply kissed her, and then said, "You're far too attractive for me not to be."

Standing up, Snape helped her to her feet and he said, "Same time next week, Miss Granger?"

Hermione looked at the floor as she buttoned up her shirt, blushing as she saw Snape pulling his trousers up in the edges of her vision. She looked away.

And then she had a thought – same time next week. Of course. She could hardly stand the thought of another week without Snape, without his hands on her, without his low voice in her ear, their breath mingling as they both gasp for breath… she didn't want that just sometimes. She wanted it all the time… she wanted him so badly…

"Hermione?"

Blushing, Hermione looked up and nodded. "Y-yes, Professor. Of course."

Snape's eyes raked over her half-dressed body, as he accio'ed her sweater from the other room so she could put it on over her buttonless shirt. "If you're well behaved next week," he said nonchalantly, "You might even get another detention on Sunday evening for spilling some very important potions in my collection."

Hermione felt a shiver at the thought – he wanted to see more of her. "Of course, Sir."

It was nine o'clock – it was time to go. Snape left a ghost of a kiss on her lips and he said, "Goodnight, Hermione."

"Goodnight, Professor," Hermione said quietly, before she left, picking up her bag and quill on the way.


	3. The Third Lesson

_She could smell him, that strong smokey scent that she would lust after in every potions class, and she could taste his skin and his kisses as he devoured her lips, the way his tongue caressed hers made her stomach drop. She could feel him, his magnificent hands pulling on her hair and caressing her curves and her breasts, his touch electric and thrilling. She could see his dark eyes, that thick curtain of black hair and the lines of his perfectly shaped torso._

_But what affected her most was what she heard – when he wasn't speaking in his low husky voice, the voice that sent shocks through her veins, she could hear his ragged breathing, the growls and groans he made when she pleasured him, the way he spoke her name…_

"_Hermione_! Wake up!"

Sitting bolt upright in her bed, hair a complete mess around her flushed face, her sheets tangled around her legs, Hermione's eyes adjusted to the light and focused on the red-headed girl standing beside her bed.

"Ginny," Hermione said, trying to control her breathing. "What's wrong?"

"You've overslept, Hermione," Ginny said, pulling the covers back, "We're supposed to be going to Hogsmeade today!"

"How much time do I have?"

"Ten minutes –"

Hermione gasped and said, "Oh, no… Ginny, can you pick out my clothes? I need a shower…"

"Sure," Ginny said with a small grin. "But be quick, or I'll leave without you."

Hermione scowled at her friend before leaping out of her bed, grabbing her towel and going out of her dorm to the shower. There was nobody in the showers, which Hermione was grateful for, but she knew everybody would already be waiting down in the courtyard. Cursing beneath her breath, Hermione turned on the taps and wished that her hair would get wet faster. It seemed to take five minutes to even get the water all the way through it, before she could even begin to put shampoo in it.

Holding her hand out to the small shampoo dispenser on the wall, Hermione said clearly, "Silky smooth, please."

"Good luck with that, Miss Granger," the dispenser squeaked at her cheerfully and Hermione scrunched her nose up in distaste. She didn't like that the shampoo dispenser was allowed to have an opinion at all.

Lathering the shampoo through her impossibly thick hair, Hermione's mind wandered back to the dream she'd had that had made her sleep in. That was the first time she'd had a sex dream in – well, since Hermione could remember. The last remotely sexual dream she'd had was a dream in which she'd kissed Viktor Krum, and she'd woken up very cheery and glowing. But this dream, it was so different – she couldn't remember how it started, but she could clearly remember the empty, dark classroom in which she had been locked in a passionate embrace with her Potions professor.

The very _thought _of him made her excited. She felt herself blushing as she washed the shampoo out of her hair, the hot water running across her skin and washing away the sweat, but not the shame.

It wasn't that she was ashamed of Snape – God, she could hardly stop thinking about him. The only reason she hadn't told Ginny or anybody else was because they would immediately disapprove, and she knew that her friendship with Harry and Ron would come to a crashing end. Apart from the fact that the boys hated Snape with a passion, she was fifteen, and Snape was – well, she wasn't sure how old he was. Probably in his thirties, she thought. He was still incredibly fit, even if his shadowy robes did not pay him justice.

Hermione sighed. She knew she had more than a little schoolgirl's crush on her Potions teacher. She couldn't stop thinking about him, couldn't stop the thrill that rushed through her when she remembered the way he had touched and kissed her. She needed him, she was aching for him.

"Hermione! Hurry the _fuck_ up!"

Hermione nearly fell over as Ginny yelled obscenities from outside the bathrooms. "C-coming, Ginny!" she called back shakily, quickly running some conditioner through her hair before stepping out of the shower and grabbing her towel.

She couldn't even think about Snape without losing her marbles.

* * *

Arms crossed and a frown set on his face, Snape looked out over the dark forest from the balcony. He had a number of things he had to do today – he had to finish those potions for Madam Pomfrey, who had reprimanded him at breakfast for failing to deliver them the night before. Snape apologised, saying he was caught up finishing some fifth year assignments.

Snape smirked as he remembered his own private joke.

But Snape often went for a quick walk about the castle, and the balcony in front of the clock was one of the few places at Hogwarts where Snape could find a quiet moment – however, he had forgotten that this weekend was the Hogsmeade visit, and there were hordes of students milling around the courtyard, their collective mumbling and chattering floating up to the balcony and making Snape's upper lip curl the slightest. He did not like the vast majority of students. In fact, he did not like the vast majority of people. He supposed he was somewhat of a misanthrope, but he did what he had to do survive and he did what Dumbledore told him.

As he watched the students begin to file out of the courtyard in their messy crowd, he heard running footsteps and a few stragglers made their way to the back of the crowd. His eyes focused suddenly as he saw who it was.

Hermione's hair was still slightly wet, her tangled curls not as mane-like as they usually were, hanging limply down her neck. It was spring, though, and the gentle warmth of the sun was already beginning to dry it out. Her skin was glowing and her small figure surprisingly graceful as she slowed from her run to a brisk walk, her Weasley friend grinning at her as they shared a small joke.

Snape tried to remain impassive as he watched her, the way her modest breasts filled her grey sweater, the way that blue denim hugged her curves and the contours of her perfect legs. She was dainty and wonderful, and he wanted nothing more than to call her to his office to tear those clothes from her body, ravish her and leave her blushing and gasping for breath.

Snape took a deep breath, and closed his eyes, and when he opened them again she was gone.

The tightness in his pants, however, was decidedly not going away any time soon.

* * *

As the weekend came to an annoyingly slow and dragging end, Hermione was sitting in the Gryffindor common room with her friends, watching Ron, Harry and the twins playing Exploding Snap with the new deck they had bought from Zonko's the day before. The twins were undefeatable but it was far too much fun to not join in, and even though Hermione was only watching she had to admit it was pretty amusing.

It was getting late, and it was nearly ten o'clock, which meant McGonagall would be coming around to send them up to bed soon. Most people had already wandered off, but a few were sitting by the fire reading or still up talking or playing cards, like these guys were. Hermione was reading a book she'd bought yesterday about theory of potions. Ron had teased her but she said it was recommended by Professor Snape to help her grades.

"He's such a git," Ron snorted, and Hermione's attention was redirected from her thoughts with a loud _sna_

"Who's a git?" she asked, staring at them over her book.

"Malfoy," he replied.

"What's he done this time?"

"Well – nothing, really," said George.

"We're just having a general moan about people we don't like," Fred added.

"We could go on for ages."

"What about Umbridge?"

"Don't get me started, brother dear…"

Hermione rolled her eyes and sighed heavily. "You boys – honestly. You're whining like little girls."

"Got a better idea, Mione?" the twins said in unison, and Hermione scowled at that name she hated so very much.

"You could do something _constructive_," she said, "Like – like –"

"Studying?" the twins said, getting up from their places on the carpet and sitting either side of her.

"I don't think studying would be much fun," said Fred, a very serious frown on his face. "Wouldn't you agree, George?"

"I couldn't agree more, Fred," his brother said with a grin.

Hermione rolled her eyes again. "Well have fun _not _studying, then," she said, as another loud crack erupted from the game of Exploding Snap. "I'm going to bed."

As she picked up her things, she hesitated when she couldn't see her book bag. Glancing around her, she realised it wasn't there.

"Oh no," she said, hand on her mouth. The last time she'd seen it was at the library, when she'd gone down there this afternoon to return the books she'd borrowed for her transfiguration assignment.

"What's the problem, Mione?"

"My book bag," she said, not knowing which twin had asked. "I left it in the library."

Harry glanced up from their card game with a raised eyebrow. "And you're going to leave it till morning, aren't you?"

Hermione looked at him as if she wasn't sure he was being serious or not. "Ah – no. I was going to go get it now. I need it."

"It's Sunday night. Anything you haven't done now can't be done before tomorrow morning."

"Just –" Hermione sighed. "I'll see you guys in the morning."

Before any of them could argue with her, Hermione had walked out of the common room and began to walk briskly towards the library.

_You're such an idiot, _she thought to herself. It wasn't like her to be so forgetful, but lately she'd been all over the place, unable to wake up at a reasonable hour, forgetting to do her homework, leaving her bags in classrooms.

She had a feeling it had something to do with Snape, but she wasn't sure.

* * *

Snape hated corridor duties. He'd rather be in his room reading or sleeping, not wandering tediously waiting for somebody to break the rules. That said, when he was walking around the castle, Umbridge wasn't able to invite herself into his office and talk to him about his teaching, wait for him to dob in others who had not been following the new rules she had in place. That old hag was asking for a hexing but Snape had restrained himself.

As he was thinking, he heard the very quiet sound of light footsteps walking down the corridor behind him, and he turned to see the silhouette of a student walk swiftly down the hall. Taking quick, silent steps towards the adjoined corridor, he saw a whirl of chestnut-brown hair before she turned the corner, and he felt a fiery burn rush through him as he realised it was Hermione.

Snape knew he needed self control, but he also knew he needed Hermione. Following her silently, he waited outside the library until she emerged again, her wide golden eyes staring out along the corridor to make sure she wasn't being followed, but Snape was excellent at keeping to the shadows.

He waited until she walked past again until he stepped out of the alcove, hands outstretched towards her…

As Hermione felt a hand grasp onto her waist, her blood froze and her stomach dropped but before she could scream there was a hand over her mouth, and lips at her ear that whispered, "Wandering the corridors at night, Miss Granger?"

Hermione tried to control her heartbeat which had tumbled into overdrive as she realised who it was. He removed his hand from her mouth and she stammered, "P-professor Snape?"

He did not reply, but he moved backwards smoothly and pulled Hermione into a classroom, closing the door, before turning to face her again.

The look in his eyes made Hermione tremble and she took a small step backwards. "I-I'm sorry, sir, I left my books in the library, and I –"

"A very interesting story, I'm sure," Snape interrupted. "However, we both know that you were breaking school rules, and rule breakers must be disciplined."

Hermione took another step backwards as Snape approached her, and she felt the cold stone of the wall hit her back as he stood above her.

Snape's hand reached out to touch her face gently, before he took her jaw in his hand and he hissed against her lips, "Your lesson today is that I am your teacher, and I dictate what you can and can't do. I decide what your punishments are. If you fail to cooperate, I will not be so kind to you. Do you understand?"

Hermione couldn't nod so she replied, voice very nearly not working, "Yes sir."

"Very good," he said, before he tipped up her chin and placed his mouth at her neck, drawing an immediate sigh from Hermione's lips as he sucked and bit at her skin.

Hermione clawed at Snape's robes as he moulded his body to hers, so incredibly hot and hard against her. She could feel her knees give as he said in his low, gravelly voice, "How do you do this to me, witch? You are so delectable – I can't make myself stop –"

Hermione gasped as he bit down particularly hard on her neck, and she knew that would leave a mark. She pulled on his hair to make him stop, but he only bit harder and caught her arms in his, holding them against the wall before he removed his teeth from her skin and glared at her.

"Do you remember what I said, Miss Granger?" he asked dangerously. "You will take the punishments I give – each and every one."

Hermione felt his words rush straight to her groin as she suppressed a moan and tried to free her arms, but to no avail. Snape smirked and he said quietly, "You're so – so helpless. You're all mine."

His possessiveness was always evident, but tonight he seemed more adamant than ever to show how much he wanted her. "Nobody else can have you," he hissed, taking her bottom lip between his teeth.

Hermione took a few quick breaths as she attempted to speak coherently as she felt his breath on her lips. "P-professor, I – I only want you."

Snape paused suddenly, and Hermione worried that she'd said something wrong. But all those dreams, all those endless thoughts of Snape, his eyes and his face, his body, his touch, his smell, his _voice_... she wanted it all. She didn't see anybody else, she didn't think of anybody else this way.

Snape's face was impassive as he watched her carefully. "Do you really mean that, Hermione?"

Hermione nodded, and Snape's grip on her wrists loosened, and he held her hands in his gently. He said nothing, the heavy pause weighing down on Hermione like a tonne of bricks.

She swallowed her nervousness, trying to keep her voice steady. "I'll – I'll go. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to – I –"

She made to move away, but Snape placed both of his hands on her waist and held her still. "Hermione," he said hesitantly, "I didn't – I was not aware you thought about this in that way. I assumed you were only doing this because – because of your grades."

Hermione managed a weak smile. "I'm not – at first, I thought I was. But that was before – before you – touched me…" Her sentence trailed off and she blushed bright red, looking away.

Snape's voice was very soft as he said, "I thought I would repulse you."

"Repulse me?" Hermione repeated, frowning, "Why on earth would you repulse me?"

Snape traced the outline of her cheek with his fingertips. "Miss Granger, look at me," he said, "I'm growing old, weak, poor – I'm scarred and flawed. I'm not good for you. Nonetheless, I cannot help – I cannot help but want you. I crave you," he said, placing a ghostly kiss on her cheek.

Hermione shivered, before she responded. "You're – you're brilliant. I think your imperfections make you better. I'm curious about – about you. I want to know you. I want to learn," she said, a small cheeky smile curving her lips.

Snape smiled back, a rare yet wonderful sight, and he said, "Very well. But you know that if you do ever misbehave," he said with a small nip on her collarbone, "Or if you give yourself to anybody but me," another small bite to her neck, "I will make you very, very sorry."

His lips hovered just above hers, and she longed for his touch. "Yes, sir," she whispered, "Please, I – I want you."

Snape did not kiss her, not yet. He held her back, so close yet not close enough, and he hissed, "I want you, Hermione – I want your innocence, I want your curiosity. I want your sighs and your moans, I want your screams. I want it all."

And with nothing else spoken, Snape shifted her from the wall, and with a few quick steps he moved her to the desk, taking off his cloak and placing it on the wooden surface before placing Hermione against the desk, and then taking a short moment to survey the situation.

Hermione shivered in anticipation, and she stared up with wide eyes at her potions teacher as he slipped his fingertips down to the buttons of her sweater. Hermione began to stand, but Snape pushed her down again with a quick shove to the chest, so that she nearly fell backwards on the desk. Hermione shifted backwards slightly, edging away from him – that look he had in his eyes was predatory, almost frightening, yet at the same time overwhelmingly thrilling.

"Will you let me take you, Hermione?" he whispered. "Will you give me your innocence?"

Hermione realised what he was asking. She felt her heart flutter and drop at the same time, and all the oxygen seemed to rush from her lungs. She was not blushing, but she could feel her entire body heating up as she looked up at her Potions teacher with wide brown eyes.

He stared back at her with intensity and she shivered. "Professor, I – I don't know –"

"You're not scared of me, are you Hermione?" Snape asked, "You trust me."

"Y-yes, but –"

"Then give yourself to me," he hissed, and Hermione's breath hitched as he kissed her, and she realised then that she wasn't afraid of Snape – she was afraid of hurting. She knew Snape would keep her safe and he would never harm her.

He left her gasping for air as he pulled away, and he said, "Let me bring down your walls, your inhibitions…" he traced his finger down her neck and to her collarbone as he spoke. "I can show you so much more than you could have ever imagined, Hermione."

Hermione let out a moan as his lips brushed across her neck, and she whimpered. "Please, please, I just – I just want you."

"Then you have me," Snape whispered, and he kissed her lips again, enveloping her with his lips and his hands as he undid the buttons on her cardigan, and slipped his hands up her shirt, grasping at her soft skin and pulling himself closer to her.

Hermione shrugged the cardigan from her shoulders and nervously began attempting to undo Snape's shirt, but he brushed her hands away and tore it from his chest, throwing it to the floor. Hermione ran her hands from his neck, across his collarbones and torso, her shaking hands caressing every line of muscle, every scar on his chest. Snape took a hissing breath between his teeth at the feel of her hands and he grasped her waist and lifted her onto the edge of the desk, pressing himself between her legs and making her gasp.

Snape made quick work of her shirt, tugging it up her stomach and over her head, and crushed his lips against hers as he unclasped her bra, making Hermione jump slightly. He was so swift, like he'd had this all planned out for so very long.

He had, in fact. He'd spent a lot of time imagining how he would take her, whether he would have to force her or if he should wait and let her decide. But not having her was never an option, oh no – she was always going to be his, whether she wanted it or not. Luckily she obviously didn't know what she was getting herself into… or what she was getting into her, more accurately.

Snape's fingers did not wander aimlessly as he reached for her breasts, his calloused fingertips touching her nipples and making her whimper as he flicked and tweaked them. He swallowed every noise she made, before he began to kiss his way down her body, spending a little extra time nipping and sucking at her collarbone, until he reached her breasts.

Placing his left hand on the small of her back, Snape's mouth latched onto one rosy nipple as his talented hand played with the other. His tongue flicked across the pebbled hardness as Hermione's back arched, her breasts reaching higher into the air. He revelled in her sighs and moans, only encouraging him further. She was so young, so perfect – she was untainted by others. This was his idea of heaven, and he had lusted after her for so long he felt he deserved to take a small moment to appreciate her before he took her innocence forever.

Easy to think that way, but the large hardness in Snape's pants had other ideas as Hermione squirmed against him, and his breathing became heavier as his touch became even more frenzied. He pushed Hermione down against the desk, leaning over her as he kissed her, his nimble fingers unbuttoning and unzipping her jeans, pulling them down her hips and thighs until they hit the floor, taking her small ballet-style shoes with them.

Hermione trembled as she saw that predatory look in his eyes again and he kissed his way down her stomach, biting her hips and kissing the skin just above her panties, and Hermione squirmed and moaned, the feelings of so-close-yet-so-far making her very needy. Snape placed his lips against her core and kissed her through her underwear, and at the feel of his soft mouth against her, Hermione cried out and Snape had to hold her hips down to stop her from moving.

Taking her panties between his sharp teeth, Snape dragged them down her legs and pulled them to the floor, before kissing her thighs, leaving marks on her pale, perfect skin as he made his way back to her centre, breathing hot air against her, inhaling her scent. Nudging her lips apart, he dipped his tongue into her warm wetness, and a strangled cry left Hermione's lips as he did so. Snape caressed her with his lips, his tongue, not leaving anything to chance as he ravished her, holding her hips so that she didn't buck too hard.

He wanted to be inside her so badly. He wanted to feel her around him. The very thought made him groan, and he stood, leaving her warmth to kiss her lips and watching her reaction as she tasted her sex. She shied away from the kisses, unsure of the taste but when Snape's wandering fingers caressed between her legs, her lips opened in a gasp and he slipped his tongue between her lips, making Hermione taste herself, hearing her moan as he stroked her.

Snape slowly inserted a long, thin finger inside her, pressing deeper inside than he had last time. Hermione flinched, her body twitching slightly as her internal muscles clenched around his finger, and she let out a small cry of pain.

"Shh," Snape said in his low voice. "You have to relax."

The sound of his voice was enough to make Hermione's body forget the pain she felt, the strange stretching feeling as he pushed in another finger all the way in, stretching her more than before and she tensed up again, only to have her teacher whispering in her ear again, kissing her neck to make her stay calm.

"How does this feel?" Snape asked, as he moved his fingers deep inside her.

Hermione was having trouble thinking coherently as she managed a reply. "I – it feels – feels deeper. Feels like more."

"Does it hurt?"

"Not – hurt," Hermione said, as a small gasp interrupted her sentence, Snape's other hand touching that small nub of nerves downstairs, making it more difficult for comprehensible speech. "It's – it's just u-uncomfortable – oh, Professor…"

Her voice trailed off into moans as he touched her, kissed her neck, prepared her for what he knew would be something she would never forget, not so long as she lived…

And as Hermione heard the sharp sound of the zip of his pants, she knew she was in too deep to back out now.

Or at least, Snape would be in deep soon…


End file.
